


Enemies On The Streets, Friends In The Sheets.

by QueenoftheNile



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, X-Men (Movies)
Genre: Cherik - Freeform, M/M, charles/erik - Freeform, de gais, magneto/professor x - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-21
Updated: 2015-12-21
Packaged: 2018-05-08 05:49:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5485901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenoftheNile/pseuds/QueenoftheNile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Exactly what it's named? Charles and Erik start dating in real life, and Charles figures out that his boyfriend, sweet, innocent, caring, loving Erik, is actually the supervillain Magneto. Well shit. Oh well. And it does NOT have resolve, in case you were wondering.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Enemies On The Streets, Friends In The Sheets.

Charles Xavier was mid-lecture at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters when there was a knock on the classroom door.

 

In came Logan, also known as Wolverine, with a look of dread on his face.

 

“Charles, I need to talk to you.” He said grimly.

 

“Would you excuse me?” He addressed the class, before following Logan out the door.

 

“What is it?” He asked, in his clear brittish accent, which gave him sort of an air of superiority and deep wisdom, aided by the wheelchair that sat the young man.

 

“It’s Magneto. He’s been at it again.” Logan said, reluctantly.

 

Charles smirked. “You sound like a bad black-and-white movie.”

 

Logan rolled his eyes. “This is serious. He’s been killing off high level anti-mutant politicians.”

 

Charles ran his hand through his hair. “Okay. We need to suit up. Gather the team.”

 

Logan just nodded and headed off to find their elite few; Logan, the Wolverine, Charles Xavier, the Professor, Scott Summers, Cyclops, Anna Marie, Rogue, Pietro Maximoff, Quiksilver, Hank Mccoy, Beast, and Ororo Munroe, Storm.

 

After they were all suited up like a proper anonymous superhero team, they debreifed.

 

“According to his pattern, Magneto is going to attack a member of the Grand Jury, Erin Halberg, age twenty-four, sometime tonight.” Said Hank.

 

Charles nodded. “Okay, so he will make an attempt on him today, you said?”

 

Hank nodded as the team made their way down the hallway.

 

Charles gathered his thoughts for the upcoming battle, not only for the actual battle, but also for disguising himself as if he had functional legs, and they headed out.

 

**……**

 

They battled, the woman was saved, and Charles went back to the school and taught the rest of the classes before all of the students hit curfew.

 

Charles tried to sleep at first, but after the first hour and a half of catching students nightmares, he decided to try to clear his mind, if it was even physically possible.

 

He climbed into his chair, grabbed his jacket, and headed out.

 

He was wheeling along, when he came across a bar, one that had just opened. He had some money on him, of course, it was hard not to, being him.

 

So he headed into the bar, finding a booth for easy access. He slid skillfully from the chair into the booth, and waited there for the waiter to come for him.

 

He caught the eye of another young man across the bar- Charles generally tried not to get into strangers heads, just out of consideration, but this guy projected very strong hate and negativity.

 

He had felt it somewhere before, but he couldn’t quite figure it out.

 

He climbed back into his chair and wheeled over to the man. “I’m sorry,” He began, “but you are  just, strikingly familiar…” He looked harder, blocking out the mans projected thoughts.

 

He just shook his head, “I don’t believe we know each other, I don’t recall knowing anyone in a wheelchair, or any man my age so attractive.

 

Charles was startled by his forwardness, before realising the drink in his hand, and the many empty glasses besides. Still, something about the man made him wary.

 

“Erik, by the way. Erik Lehnsherr.” The man introduced himself.

 

“Charles. Xav-” Charles realised the ‘big’ name may intimidate him, “Charles… Francis.” He introduced, offering a hand to Erik.

 

Erik took it and shook, also slightly apprehensive. “Your voice… Reminds me of someone.”

 

Charles had to brace before the handshake to take in as little as possible. “So Ma-Erik, um, how  about, sometime, when you are sober, we have dinner. What would you think of that?” He asked.

 

“I think,” Erik wrote something down, “You should call me.” He handed him a napkin with ten digits on it; a phone number.

 

Charles took it with a smirk, as he noticed how late it really was. “Well, I really must be going. It was very nice meeting you , Erik.” He said as he wheeled out of the bar.

  
  


……

  
  


Charles waited three days, as was standard, before he called Erik.

 

The dial tone rang three times before he picked up. “Hello, Erik Lehnsherr?” He said.

 

“Erik! It’s Charles, from the bar.” He explained.

 

Erik was quiet for a moment. “Oh, Charles, yes, the, attractive man in the wheelchair, of course. What do you call concerning?” He asked

 

Charles could feel warmth spreading through his cheeks, as either Erik was actually that straightforward, or he was always drunk. “Well, I do believe I was promised dinner.” He pointed out.

 

“I do recall something of that sort being said,” Erik agreed, “Your point being?” He teased.

 

“How about tonight, at eight, I will pick you up if you text me your address?” He inquired.

 

“It’s a date.” Erik said, with finality before hanging up the phone.

 

Charles smiled, before going back to teach his classes.

 

\------------

 

Charles headed out at six, heading over to the supermarket to get roses before he went to pick up Erik for their aforementioned date.

 

He texted Erik just before he arrived, and sat in wait.

 

After about fifteen minutes had passed and no Erik, Charles went up to the door and knocked.

 

Erik answered almost immediately, “Sorry to keep you waiting, I got… Caught up.”

 

Charles heard raised voices inside. “Do you need to-”

 

“No, no it-it will… Resolve itself. Or, at least, it better. God, let’s just go.” He said, obviously stressed by whatever was happening.

 

Charles wanted this date to be perfect, so he decided to take Erik away from whatever this stressful situation was.

 

Erik got into the back of the limo, and Charles handed him the roses as he climbed in opposite of him.

 

“Ooh, fancy.” Erik smelled the roses. “Oh, they smell amazing… I’ve never gotten real roses before.”

 

Charles did an imaginary high five with himself, glad he had gotten at least that right.

 

Once they arrived at the restaurant, the waiter walked up to them, “Table for two?”

 

Charles nodded.

 

“Reservation for Xav- Francis,” He corrected, with a look to the waiter.

 

The man frowned, and then seemed to understand; “Table for two, under Francis.”

 

Charles nodded, though the exchange had earned a suspicious look from Erik.

 

Charles chuckled nervously, and was saved by the waiter telling them, “Your table is ready Charles.”

 

“Thank you.” He said, handing him a twenty dollar bill.

 

They were shown to their table, and Charles pulled out a chair for Erik, before going around to his own chair.

 

They ordered, were having a fairly pleasant meal, when Erik asked, “So, to afford this, you have to be pretty successful, what do you do for a living, Francis?” He asked.

 

Charles thought for a moment, but saw no harm in telling him the truth; “I’m a professor. I work at-at a… Boarding school, sort of.” He said.

 

“Hey, fancy pants professor! Xavier!” He heard a painstakingly familiar voice. He pretended not to hear his comrade.

 

“It, um, looks like he’s looking at you.” Erik pointed out.

 

“Who is? What?” He looked around, still ignoring Hank across the restaurant.

 

“Charles!” Logan called.

 

Charles gritted his teeth, still ignoring them.

 

“Yeah, they’re calling to you, ‘fancy-pants professor’.” Said Erik.

Charles turned, awkwardly waving at Hank, Logan, Scott and Ann Marie a who were all sitting together at a table fairly near them.

 

When he turned back to Erik, he was frowning. “What did that one guy call you- Xavier? I know that name from somewhere… Is that some sort of nickname you have?” He asked, cluelessly.

 

Charles sighed. He knew from experience it was better to quit here and let up then push the lie further; “Yep.” Unfortunately, his mouth had different ideas. “Actually, no.” He forced. “My real name is Xavier. Charles Xavier.” He braced for the recognition.

 

Erik frowned. “Why would you lie?” He asked.

 

“Well, I thought if I gave you the real name you would either A, think I was lying, or B, be intimidated by, you know, the whole multi-billionaire thing?” He explained.

 

Erik scoffed, “Full of yourself much?” He mused. “Why would I be intimidated? Never even heard the name before!” He said with an amused huff. “You obviously need to sort your shit, Xavier. By which, I mean priorities. Literally, I could care less if you were the richest man on earth, or some homeless bum; it’s personality. Of course, rich boyfriend is a plus.” he reclined in his seat with an air of accomplishment.

 

Charles’ first reaction was, “Wait, boyfriend?”

 

Erik rolled his eyes. “In the near future, mayhaps.”

 

At first, Charles was embarrassed, and then self conscious as many of his students and two fellow teachers listened, and then a sense of peace kind of washed over him, a very simple realization; this was right. There was no better way to put it.

 

Erik smirked. “What are your thoughts on that?”

 

Charles smirked back. “I think we should take this somewhere private..?” He asked.

 

Erik smiled at the idea. “I don’t know, you’re the professor.” He teased.

 

“You are excused,” Charles played along, as Erik took his hand and they left the restaurant.

 

Charles had already paid the bill in advance, so he didn’t have to hold up as they went out to Charles’ limo. But one question remained; “My place or yours?” Erik asked.

 

“We can’t do mine,” They said in unison.

 

“Well,” Charles said, “I have a stepfather and stepbrother and my mother at mine, out of the question.

 

“I have people at my house too…” Erik objected.

 

“Hotel?” Charles offered.

 

Erik shrugged, “Why not?” so off they went.

 

**…**

 

Charles woke the next morning with a headache, finding a sleeping Erik across the room, on another bed, and a chess board the only accessory on the floor.

 

He remembered the hotel from the night before. It had been hell avoiding physical contact with someone who was clearly trying to sleep with him, but, then again; he was Charles Xavier.

 

He climbed into his chair and headed over to the little hotel coffee pot to start some, when he was hit with one of Erik’s nightmares.

 

He tried with all of his might to shut it out, not wanting to be rude, but he was unable to.

 

~~~~

_He found himself in a small, dim-lit room. Erik stood across the room, only a young boy, and then another man, in a nazi military uniform, sat behind a desk._

_The man was yelling at him in German, and pointing to a woman, who had a gun pointed at her head, in the hands of another soldier._

_Erik screamed something in German, but the man pulled the trigger._

_~~~~_

 

Erik jumped awake, breathing hard.

 

Charles recovered himself and went back to making coffee, pretending nothing had happened.

 

Erik wandered over, something clasped in his hand.

 

“What do you have there?” He asked, gesturing to the clasped fist.

 

Erik looked down at the hand. “A memoir.”

 

Charles could feel how uneasy he was, so he didn’t press any further; it wasn’t important.

 

\---------

 

A month later, and they were still in a steady relationship, and Charles managed to avoid most physical contact.

 

He left school more and more to spend time with Erik, almost all of his free time, in fact. Even when he was at the school, his mind wasn’t really. He texted him in class, he was almost the only thing that stayed on his mind longer than five minutes.

 

Charles was headed into the school early one day, to set up for a presentation, and when he arrived, he discovered that some people had gotten there even earlier.

 

He unlocked and opened the front door, but as he wheeled in, he saw a banner hung from the ceiling, and a large group of his friends gathered.

 

Hank, Scott, Ororo, and some others, stood around the room. Only then did Charles read the banner; INTERVENTION.

 

Charles took a deep breath. “Uh oh…” He muttered under his breath, rolling to the front of the room.

 

Hank was the first to speak; “Okay, Charles, um, we don’t want to judge what, or who, you do in your free time, however, this guy, whoever he is, is taking over your life.”

 

“You’ve been here about two whole days, out of every week.” Scott added.

 

“We just want you to be a little better focused, particularly when you’re teaching. Even when you are  here, which isn’t that often, you aren’t really.” Ororo pointed out.

 

Charles was feeling defensive, but he just nodded.

 

Everyone looked around at each other. “Well, that was, kind of it.” Scott said.

 

Charles nodded. “Right, so,” he paused, opening the door, “I only can say only this; I do get to have a life outside of the school, and, yeah.” He said in his usual calm, collected manner, despite how pissed it had really made him.

 

He left the room with a general tone of shock on their faces, and as he rolled out, pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed.

 

Riiing… Riii- “Hello?” Erik’s voice came.

 

“Erik! It’s Charles, are you doing anything important right now?” He asked, straight up.

 

“Um, no, not really. Why?”  He wondered.

 

“Do you wanna go, do something, like, away from my school?” He asked.

 

Erik was silent for a moment, before asking, “Chinese sound good to you?”

 

Charles let a grin creep onto his lips. “Wonderful.” He decided.

 

\--

Erik pulled up, and Charles climbed into the passenger seat, as Erik put his chair in the back.

 

“So, you own a school, Xaviers School for Gifted Youngsters, you have a stepfather and stepbrother, Kurt and Cain Markos. Oh, and uh, multi-billionaire.” Erik looked very pleased with himself.

 

Charles nodded approvingly, “Someone did their research.”

 

Erik nodded, “What, you aren’t supposed to do an internet search of your partner on the one month anniversary? Sorry, never gotten this far before.” He said, sarcastically.

 

Charles laughed. “Sure you have.” He looked at him.

 

Erik looked down, his face sobering up.

 

Charles looked down too, awkwardly, as Erik started the car.

 

\----

 

When they arrived at the restaurant, Erik pulled the chair around to the front of the car and helped Charles into it.

 

Once they were inside, eating, Erik had to ask, “So,” he began, slightly awkward, “One thing I couldn’t find online, was why you are in a wheelchair.” He raised an eyebrow.

 

Charles looked down, thinking back to the day…

 

**Flashback~**

 

_“So! It is you who has tyrannized this city! Who are you-- and where are you from?” Charles confronted the man in the mask._

_“My true purpose you shall never know-- But on this planet I call myself… Lucifer!” He said as he flipped the switch that would end Charles’ days of running and standing, dropping a large slab of ceiling onto him._

_“And now-- that name shall be the final thing you hear! Prepare to die-- for daring to oppose that which no mortal can comprehend!”_

**End of flashback~**

 

“Charles?” He looked closer. “You don’t… Have to tell me, if it was that…” He shook his head.

 

Charles looked at him. “It wasn’t that bad, I-- I… Got into a fight.” He decided to go with that, since technically, it was true.

 

Erik nodded, and then decided something. “Charles?” He looked straight into his eyes.

 

Charles looked up and met them, seeing and feeling so many mixed emotion. “Yes?”

 

“Charles I… I think I’m in love with you.”

 

With the saying of those words, a burst of emotion flew off of him- confusion, worry, fear, relief-Charles blinked.

 

“I mean-well I- if you- I mean- do you-or am-” He stopped, looking into his lap and messing with what Charles could now tell was a coin, a nazi five reichspfennig, from world war two.

 

Charles tried to calm Erik down, but he was too caught up in his own emotions, thinking about someone else he knew who carried around a five reichspfennig coin.

 

Then Erik made a huge mistake; he leaned in and kissed Charles, cupping his face with his hands.

 

Everything came rushing to him-- crystal clear.

 

When Erik pulled back, one word rolled off of Charles’ tongue; “Magneto…”

 

Erik frowned, backing up, a strong wave of fear rolling off of him. He pulled some money out of his pocket to pay and then left the restaurant.

 

“Wait! Erik-” Charles tried to follow him, accidentally running into a waitress, knocking a drink tray onto the ground.

 

“Oh my goodness, I am so sorry ma’am but I must be going!” He kept on going, but by the time he got outside, Erik’s car was gone.

 

“Dammit!” He lowered his head into his hands. He sat back up, determined, and wheeled off back toward the school. Six miles away. He soon realised the flaw in this plan, and thought about calling someone, but decided to just not head back to the school.

 

Instead, he went straight home, only a mile and a half away.

 

**…**

 

When he arrived home, he went straight up to his room, and plopped down on the bed.

 

His eye caught the glint of the needle.

 

He wrapped the tourniquet around his arm, and grabbed the needle.

 

He held it there, and imagined it; the needle sinking in, his legs supporting his weight, his mind shut off from others. And then Logans face…

 

He threw the needle on the ground, angrily ripping the tourniquet off.

 

“Aaah!” He screamed, frustratedly glaring at the bedside photo of him and Erik at the carnival on their third date.

 

He turned the photo facedown. Suddenly, the day really hit him; Erik Lehnsherr was Magneto. How could this possibly happen? Of all of the people he dated, _Magneto?_ But Erik was so sweet! He didn’t seem like he would ever hurt anyone! He certainly didn’t seem the kind of person to kill innocent people... Charles thrashed on his bed. He wanted to hate Erik, he did, but he was so sweet, a wonderful gentleman, but he was Magneto… How was this even possible?!

 

Just then, Charles phone began to ring.

 

“Hello?” Charles said, through tears he barely noticed had formed.

 

“Professor?”  Hank’s voice said, “Are you all right?”

 

Charles composed himself. “Yes, what is it doctor?” He asked.

 

“It’s Magneto. We found him sir.”

 

Charles froze.

 

“Sir? Are you there?”

 

“Yeah, yeah um,” He heaved a great sigh, “Yes I’ll be at the school in a few minutes.” He hung up.

 

Charles sat up, running a hand through his hair. He grabbed the needle and set it back on his dresser, next to the tourniquet.

 

He grabbed his outfit and headed down to the school.

 

When he arrived, the team was all ready.

 

“Ready to go?” Asked Scott.

 

Charles nodded, using his mind to hide the redness around his eyes.

 

They headed down to an old sugar factory, where they had been tipped Magneto would be.

 

Charles disguised himself, readying for the battle, pulling his mask over his face.

 

Magneto dramatically pulled off the roof, floating himself down with that helmet on his head so Charles couldn’t reach his mind.

 

Charles now saw what was under the helmet clearer than ever.

 

He almost broke into tears again, heading over to fight his boyfriend.

 

He hadn’t come alone; Mystique, White Queen, and Azazel were also with him.

 

Charles allowed his team to address them, he headed right over to Erik.

 

Erik came at him with the same intent as usual; to take him down in some way.

 

But this time, he wouldn’t; Charles took down the mental barrier from him, showing he had no functional legs, and he took off his mask. “Erik,” He addressed him.

 

Erik froze. “Charles?!" He considered for a moment. "Did you-You used me!” He screamed.

 

Charles shook his head, confused, but Erik threw his chair against the wall.

 

“Erik! You don’t have to do this!” He screamed.

 

“You lied to me! Manipulated me! Let me trust you, only to stab me in the back.” Erik said through gritted teeth, as he blinked back tears.

 

“Erik, calm down. That’s not-” Just then,  Hank removed Erik’s helmet.

 

“Professor now!” He yelled.

 

Charles had an idea; he erased the last five minutes from Erik’s memory, and reengaged his mental disguise before Erik was able to get the helmet back on.

 

Once he did, it wasn’t that bad of a battle, of course, people got hurt and both sides ended up retreating.

 

\--

 

Scott’s arm got broken, but that was the only major issue.

 

When they go back, Charles went straight back to his house, freaking out.

 

He still had feelings for Erik, but what would his team think of him? If he was dating Magneto? But still, it was Erik… God, why was this so complicated?!

 

He waited an hour or so before calling Erik. He didn’t pick up. So he called again. And again, and again, in all he left about fifteen embarrassing voicemails.

 

Then he decided he would have to contact him another way; Erik? He reached out with all of his strength.

 

He did this for another hour before he gave up. He plopped onto his bed, facedown.

 

Just then, his phone rang… Again.

 

This time he was fully aware of the tears, so he gained his composure before picking up, but it crumbled with the ‘hello?’ from the other end.

 

“E-Erik?” He asked, hopefully.

 

“Yeah, Charles, sorry I ran out of lunch earlier, um, I think we need to talk. Meet me at Arlington Cemetery in an hour.”  And with that, he hung up.

 

Charles sighed in relief, more tears-good tears now-streamed down his cheeks.

 

And then he thought of what Erik had said; “We need to talk.”

 

There were only two things this phrase was used for, and unless Erik was dying, and Charles was fairly sure he wasn’t, Erik was breaking up with him.

 

Charles forced himself to calm down. Erik didn’t know who he was, and had no new reason to break up with him, and even if he did, why didn’t Charles want to? It defied all logic!

 

He jumped at a knock on the door; it was only Jean Grey.

 

“Didn’t mean to interrupt you Professor, but you are thinking, like, really loudly. Any telepath in a ten mile radius is going to hear you worrying about dating Magneto.” She walked over and sat on his bed.

 

Charles began to panic, “Does anyone know? Did you tell anyone?” He asked.

 

“It’s okay, your secret is safe with me, Charles.” She assured him.

 

He hung his head. “What do I do? I can’t ever hurt Erik, but I can’t very well date Magneto, it’s a lose-lose situation, but also-I mean, I could never hurt him, I’m just not sure if he feels the same way.” He looked up to meet her eyes.

 

She just shook her head. “I can’t tell you what you feel, but if, if you are in love with him, you will always, always, regret not holding on to him with all of your heart, even if it risks being broken. I mean, they wouldn’t call it ‘falling’ in love, if you didn’t get hurt sometimes.”

 

Charles just stared into his lap, glancing to the needle on his nightstand.

 

Jean followed his gaze. “No. Charles, I am taking this,” She grabbed the needle and tourniquet, “and you are going to go meet Mag- _Erik_ , at the cemetery, no matter how creepy that may be, and you are going to tell that man you love him.” She left with the needle and tourniquet.

 

Charles sat there for a moment longer, allowing her words to seep in. He resolved to do as she had suggested.

 

He even put on a suit for it, and asked her to drive him to the cemetery.

 

Despite how huge the cemetery was, Charles knew exactly where he would find Erik, because he knew who Erik wanted to see who was buried there.

 

He walked up to Erik, seeing the gravestone, which confirmed his thoughts about the dream, the stone read “Edie Eisenhardt” “Loving wife” “Caring Mother”.

 

Charles placed a hand on distant Erik’s shoulder. “She was jewish, right?” He asked.

 

Erik looked up and frowned. “What?”

 

“Your mother, Edie, that was why she…?”

 

Erik paused, looking him up and down, before saying hesitantly “Yes,”

 

“Than doesn’t that mean she’s somewhere better?” He asked.

 

Erik looked back off into the distance. “Supposedly.” He grumbled.

 

Charles pulled up next to Erik all of the way. “Erik, I have to tell you something, something important, and you have to promise not to freak out.”

 

Erik scoffed, “I’m not easily spooked.” He smirked.

 

“No Erik, this is serious.”

 

Erik looked him in the eye, “What’s wrong?” He asked, standing up.

 

Charles took a deep breath. “Promise, you won’t freak out or, run away or any of that bullshit?” He looked him dead in the eye.

 

Erik nodded, “I promise.”

 

Charles paused, wondering if he should have said anything, but it was too late now. “Okay, Erik Lehnsherr, Max Eisenhardt”-he winced slightly at that one-“Magneto, whatever you go by, I love you, and I say that from the bottom of my heart, but…”

 

Erik frowned, “‘But’..? ‘But’ what?” he asked.

 

Charles braced himself, “But, I am the Professor.”

 

Charles shut his eyes and winced.

 

Nothing came, so he continued; “And I understand completely if you can’t-or rather don’t want to ever ‘see’ see me again.”

 

Erik shook his head. So Charles kept going.

 

“Look Erik, even if you hate me, I will never be able to look at ‘Magneto’ in quite the same way, and I would understand if you just want me the fuck out of your life.”

 

He turned to leave, but felt a hand on his shoulder.

  
  


Erik came to the front of the wheelchair. “Charles, it has nothing to do with the fact that you are the professor! It’s the fact that you lied to me, for a whole relationship, you used me, you got close to me to try to sway me from my beliefs! You manipulated me and used it to your advantage- but most of all? You broke my heart. After all of this, you are right to think I won’t forgive you. You are right to leave, because I am Magneto, and you are the Professor and we could never even be friends, let alone anything more, because you’re the hero Charles, and do you know what that makes me? The villain. So yes, I should hate you, but I don’t; nothing personal, just business. Goodbye, Charles. Hopefully, for good.” And with that, he was just gone.


End file.
